CHAPTER 54
Edie’s locator spell had found what they needed, and her teleportation spell had carried them to this hideout.
Their vantage point outside the nondescript small house told Caster there had to be at least twenty Made-Vampires within its walls.
Uncle Lucien wasn’t here, which was disappointing, but the promise of satisfaction caused his fangs to tingle.
He started to move, but his cousin held him back with a shake of the head. “Wait. Listen…”
Fury blanketed each one of his senses, and he thanked his cousin for keeping a cool head.
He took a breath and focused on the house and its occupants.
Humans. At first he’d only sensed the stench of death that often followed a newly minted Made-Vampire, failing to notice the humans among them.
Had they exposed themselves to humans? Given everything his uncle had done so far, it would not be too much of a leap that he would disregard that particular rule.
He would try to get the humans away from the considerable danger they faced, but today he cared little for anything except for the blood lust spurring him on.
“I haven’t fed in a while.” His voice sounded foreign to him, but his cousin’s slow smile erased all fear of judgment, as did the chuckle from the Prime Alpha and the smile from Cyrus, who had refused to stay out of this one.
He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and nodded at his three companions.
Damien had handed him the weapon a second before Edie’s teleportation spell had delivered them here, and again he thanked his cousin for his foresight.
Not that either of them needed a weapon to dispatch baby Made-Vampires, but there was something delicious about the connection to a weapon that could decapitate a vampire in a single stroke.
Plus, he was impatient for this battle to be over.
Its purpose was to salve his pain, so he could find the strength to save Mark.
That he would save him was not in question.
The how, however, was beyond his current capacity to think.
Cyrus indicated the left, and they fanned out around the house. His brother had not chosen a weapon, but he didn’t need one. His bodyguard was one of the best fighters in the world, a skill he’d taught Cy over the centuries, making his brother the killing machine they’d needed during the war.
The house was small enough that he could still sense the Prime Alpha and Cy on the other side of it.
He nodded at Damien, but the door swung open just as his cousin was about to breach it.
A young human male froze, regained his composure a second later, but Damien didn’t give him a chance to ruin their surprise attack.
He grabbed him by the neck, cutting off his air. “Be a good boy and calm down for me.” The compulsion worked fast, and the human nodded his surrender. Damien glanced at Caster, his smile predatory as his fangs lengthened, tearing into the human’s neck in one fluid motion.
The sounds coming from the house indicated a party in full swing, and as Damien handed the half-dead human to Caster, the cacophony of shouts rising above the merriment was evidence that Dean and Cy had not encountered any distraction.
Caster sank his fangs into the boy’s neck, almost tearing his head off in his haste.
The blood, unremarkable, infused with fear instead of pleasure, invigorated his muscles, spurring him on.
A body bumped into him, and he dropped the drained human to the floor just as Damien caught the runner.
He held him in place, and Caster noted his wide eyes, their blue color intensified by the Change, a second before he rammed his sword through his heart.
The Made-Vampire crumbled to his knees, and the haze of the fresh blood coursing through his veins lifted for a second to allow sound to flow to Caster’s mind.
Screams of the dying called to his need for blood, and he pushed into the small house.
More Made-Vampires than he’d ever seen in one space littered the house, trying and failing to move past Dean and Cy.
The Prime Alpha had two in his grip. He smiled at Caster and, with a snarl, tore their heads off in unison.
One tried to run past him, but a single swing of his sword and he fell to his knees, his head rolling to the left.
Caster snarled, needing more blood. He tossed the sword onto the couch and grabbed the next Made-Vampire attempting to flee.
His claws dug into its neck; he lifted the shorter vampire by the wound, meeting his terrified gaze before his other hand tore through his chest, enclosed his heart in his fist, and tore it from his chest.
Caster roared, a sound the Prime Alpha matched as their eyes met over the bloody chaos.
His next victim carried an enticing scent.
Human, perhaps one of the humans awaiting his turn to become a Made-Vampire.
Caster grabbed hold of his arm, tearing it off its socket.
He reveled in the scream tearing out of the human’s lungs as it joined the other sounds of death around him, tossing the arm to the side.
The gravely injured human started to fall to his back, but Cy caught him, sinking his fangs into his neck.
He drank his fill in the second it took for Caster to tear the heads off two more Made-Vampires before tossing the human into Caster.
His fangs found the other side of his neck, the pulsing blood infusing his muscles with incredible power.
He drank to the last drop and tossed the body to the side, closing his eyes to gather the power the blood offered.
When he opened his eyes, the sounds of death were gone; the room and his body were covered in blood and gore from the carnage.
His brother caught his eye, his breaths as shallow as his own.
The Prime Alpha retracted his claws with a sickening crack.
Damien was breathing hard, his sword dripping with the blood of their victims.
Caster reached for his weapon, his fury half sated. He took a breath, more in control of the animal in him than he’d been back at the house. But he wanted more.
***
Terror, real, almost tangible, gripped every ounce of Mark, paralysis its consequence as he watched the red eyes move closer to him.
His wolf growled its threat, and their attacker turned to him.
Mark tried to take advantage of the creature’s momentary distraction, but his body would not cooperate.
There was also nowhere to go; darkness was everywhere, broken only by the tear that had spat out the demon.
Mark closed his eyes and tried to reach for Caster’s image, but his wolf's loud growl dissuaded him from that action.
The demon smiled at him again, and this time the smile was more human.
Its red eyes acquired a purple hue that sharpened to blue as it changed shape into a human male, complete with clothing and shoes.
It spread its arms, the action seeming non-threatening, although all instinct told Mark it was anything but.
“Hello there, Magicae Lupus.” Its growling voices in perfect chorus increased the terror holding Mark captive.
It stepped closer, and that terror manifested in a shaky breath.
“Why would I harm you when you will give me what I want?”
Memory of what that is, at least what Pierce had said it was, collided with the terror he couldn’t shake. His wolf growled, and Mark found his breath in his animal’s strength. “I will not.”
His paltry courage only amused the creature, its laugh in perfect chorus dragging Mark deeper into the terror he thought he would never escape, not without Caster.
The creature shook its head, comfortable enough in its position to pace the darkness. “He cannot save you here.” It smiled again, a flash of those needle-like teeth appearing and disappearing so fast, Mark was unsure he’d seen them at all. “You belong to me now. I…”
Something beyond the darkness interrupted its words.
Mark, in the depths of his terror, could not decipher what it was.
It took a second for him to sense it, but there was someone else, something else with them.
His tormentor frowned and then roared, the same roar that had torn from the Underworld right before he’d made an appearance.
Mark glanced at his wolf to find a calm expression, the animal tilting its head to the right. He tried to peer into the darkness, willing his senses to see anything, something. Then a flash of yellow tore at his sight and his paralysis was lifted.
The red-eyed demon dissolved its human form just as the yellow smoke raced through the darkness to grip its smoky black body. Pierce?
Black and yellow crisscrossed his line of sight as the two demons fought for purchase; the roar of the Underworld, or perhaps their combined roars wreaking havoc on his eardrums.
Yellow seemed to gain the upper hand, but then a surge of something Mark couldn’t describe tore through the darkness and the intense color was swallowed by black, disappearing into the darkness entirely.
“Now! Roar now, Magicae Lupus.” Pierce’s voice screamed in his mind, and Mark started to shake his head, but his wolf rose to its feet, glanced at him as if to say “let’s do this,” and opened its mouth.
Again, the sensation of both sides of him melding into one, unsettled him, but he allowed his animal to lead, and the power of the roar consumed his whole being.
Yellow emerged from the black the longer he roared, and the tear in the Veil mended.
The two entities battling before him separated, the red eyes appearing once more as Mark continued his roar.
Yellow attacked, swallowing black, staining its bright hue for a fraction of a second before pushing the black into the tear that was slowly stitching together.
A painful howl sounded from behind the tear, from the Underworld, and Mark’s throat itched as his roar took on a life of its own. Spurred on by his fear, Mark soldiered on, opening his mouth wider, roaring louder. He only stopped when all the light was gone, and the darkness once again consumed him.
The separation into his two distinct entities did not come. The darkened floor he couldn’t see released its grip, and he fell to his knees, more tired than he ever remembered being.
“No. Don’t fall asleep. This is not the place to…”
Whatever Pierce said was lost in his battle with the oblivion calling to him. Every instinct told him the demon was right; he couldn’t let his guard down, not here. But he was so tired…